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“Yes. The oath had been ingrained into us from the start. We are natural protectors, the gargoyle race.”

“Then you were there from the beginning?”

“I was.”

“Tell me the story of the witch you mentioned earlier,” I say. “Please.”

Myerdoth’s lips part slightly into the only semblance of a smile I’ve ever seen from him. “She gave us life and allowed us freedom, butIchose to staywith her. As her first creation, there was an incredible bond between us.”

I hold up a hand. “Wait a second,” I start and then take a pause. “Are you telling me, you werethe first gargoyle?”

He nods as I try to decide if he’s full of shit, delusional or just completely insane.

“I see the doubt in your eyes,” Myerdoth continues as he extends his forearm and unties a brown leather cuff that covers his skin. Beneath the cuff is a glowing red rune—and it’s in the exact shape of the picture he scribbled on the piece of paper.

“What is it?” I ask.

“The mark,” Myerdoth answers. “That shows I was the first of my kind.”

“What does it do?”

“Protects me,” he answers with a shrug. “I can’t be killed unless the mark is destroyed,” he continues as he covers the rune with the heavy leather cuff once more.

“Hence why you keep it covered?”

“Hence why I keep it covered. In times of war, I cover the leather with metal armor.”

I nod as my thoughts return to the witch and the story of the grimoire. “This woman created you and allowed you freedom, yet you chose to stay with her.”

“I did.”

“You loved her?”

“She was my mate,” Myerdoth reveals with a quick nod. “We only have one in all our lifetimes.”

“Is that true?” I ask, surprised to hear it.

“I would think you already know the answer to that question.”

I think of Eilish and I swallow hard. “Yes, I suppose I do.”

***

THEREN

Oronrel

I know I should fight these visions, the ones that pull me into her darkness, but I can’t. I glide my hands across her alabaster skin as my hips thrust into the wet, pulsating suction that holds me captive. The memory of Eilish’s love makes medread ever leaving, ever seeing the light of day and feeling the burden of being king. Here, she’s my home—and my undoing. I lick the sweet-tasting sweat from her lips and push her knees toward her chest. She gasps, squeezing around me like a vise.

The snow melts beneath our heat, pooling around us…

Water fills Cambion’s mouth as he reaches for me. My arms refuse to move, but my muscles twitch. Morrigan stands over him and I see the horror of his fear in his golden eyes...

Blue eyes stare up at me as the sound of Eilish’s moans fill my ears. Pale fingers reach up to brush the hair from my face. The gesture is kind and out of place in the midst of our desperate race to reach inside one another’s souls.

Something breaks... the vision begins to shift between the study in Oronrel and the glade. Morrigan... she is weak... now’s my chance...

Glass shatters, and I stare into my own reflection. Scarlet liquid pools between my fingers. I pry a piece from the mirror and tear open my robes. I blink in the darkness of the study and see the rune Morrigan used to bespell me. I carve it out of my flesh, feeling the heat of my blood sizzle as I defy the magic. My reflection screams and claws at the surface, but I grit my teeth and dig a little deeper. A chunk of skin falls to the floor amid so much blood.